Yeah you in your mother's new shoesBet you like them as much as her bluesDon't tell anyone - but I plan to moveThe first time you look awayTell me the new apron stringsTaste to you, yesMy pretty young thingsYou tell me that hatred is king(It's to the weak and the manor born)

Like a trick that you've fallen for,You recognize me because:There's only one sound to love